Fine Again
by Jaimie-Lannister
Summary: Amelia Shepherd liked Seattle. She truly did, and she did a great job making a life for herself there. But her past can't seem to stop catching up to her, and she's left wondering when she be fine again. Takes place post 12x08. Rated T because Amelia has dealt with and is dealing with some pretty adult stuff.
1. Chapter 1: Fine Again

**CHAPTER 1: FINE AGAIN**

 _"And I am aware now of how_  
 _Everything's gonna be fine_  
 _One day, too late, I'm in hell"_  
-Seether

Amelia Shepherd stared at that vodka tonic for a good five seconds. And in that five seconds, a lot flew through her brain. Her complicated brain full of neurons and synapses and glial cells. Her intricate brain with more problems than her successful career in neurosurgery would ever be able to fix. She knew if she drank that vodka tonic, her brain wouldn't let her stop. More specifically, her brain would flood with dopamine and overload her brain's reward circuit. The parts of her brain that control judgement, decision making, learning, memory, and behavior control would essentially be hijacked, and every inch of her being would ache for another drop of alcohol. Or better, a pill. But she knew what was in every drop of that alcohol. Numbness, relief, escape. Everything that her heart was yearning for. She also knew that in every drink there was pain, guilt, and isolation. She knew that if she took that drink, she might not ever stop. But she felt so, so alone... And the only thing there for her in that moment was the vodka tonic. So she took that drink, not giving a damn about what would come next.

As she felt the burn of her first sip of alcohol running down her throat, she wondered if this time would be different. This time, she would be in control. Staring at her glass, she knew that wouldn't be the case. It never was. It never could be. She'd lost too much of her old self, the self that she hadn't seen for years. Her brain was too damaged. The warmth that sat in her throat was too comforting, too inviting of her next sip. The rest of contents of the glass rolled down her throat as fast as it could without choking her. Instantaneously, her internal clock ran from one thousand five hundred and seven right back down to zero. Every second of the fight that was the past four years. Gone.

She called for another glass, and she thought about Owen. She hated him. She loved him. She wanted to spend the rest of her life with him. She wanted to wake up every morning in his arms. She never wanted to see him again. She wanted him to forget about her and find someone new. Someone who wasn't like her. Someone who was nice and sweet and funny. Someone who didn't have baggage. Someone whose father wasn't murdered in front of her eyes. Someone who didn't have a dead brother and a dead baby and a dead ex and a dead everything else. Someone who didn't systematically waste herself away with pills and booze. Someone who wasn't destined to wind up dead in the bathroom stall of a shady bar.

But when she thought about Owen, all she really wanted was for him to march through the doors of that bar. For him to wrap his arms around her, tell her it was okay, take her home. But he wasn't coming through those doors.

"In a perfect world," she muttered to herself.

"What?" Nathan Riggs asked.

She shook her head, "Nothing." She wondered if she should tell the bartender to cut her off before she lost complete control. Like she did in LA, all those years ago. But it hadn't done much then, and it wouldn't do much now. What was the point?

She downed her next glass, and she thought about Meredith. No matter what she said, they were sisters. They both knew that. Even when they hated each other. Which seemed to be all of the time now. She wished they could go back to a year ago. Everything had been so much less damaged. There had been no dead Derek in between them. They had treated each other like human beings sometimes. Ah, those were the days.

As she finished the glass, she thought about Dr. Webber and Charlotte. They would be disappointed, watching her. They would probably tell her she needs to go to a meeting (or in Charlotte's case, meetin'). They would understand, though. They wouldn't look at her the way everyone else would. The ones who would call her fragile and weak and selfish and narcissistic. The ones who would agree that she did this to herself, that this was caused by some innate lack of self control and willpower. The ones that don't understand the gravitational pull that dragged her to the bar that night. It's not one they teach you about in physics class. It's the voice inside of her that told her that she had no place to go. She no longer had a home. But the bar, the bar will always welcome her with open arms. The bar could make her feel like home. That was what the voice had promised her, but the voice was lying. The bar was not home, the bottom of a bottle was.

She called for a third, and she thought of the people she'd lost. Derek would be disappointed in her. Oh, she missed him. His words echoed through her mind, even after all of these years. If you ever think about doing drugs again, call me. I'll fly down to Los Angeles and knock some sense into you. If only he were there to knock some sense into her now. But then again, if he were there, she probably wouldn't have ended up in the bar in the first place. He wouldn't be the only one disappointed in her, though. She couldn't imagine what her father would think of her. Ryan, Michelle, Pete, Mark - they would be disappointed. She'd come so far. Her son would probably be disappointed, too, if he had any cognitive function. She nearly finished the glass, but Riggs stopped her.

"Whoa, slow down there," Riggs commented.

"Well, it was a long day," Amelia responded.

Riggs sighed. "That it was, but I doubt your body can take care of so much vodka at once."

"You don't know anything about me," she retorted.

"Fair enough." He shrugged as he continued to drink too much himself.

She called for a glass of water next. "Happy?" She asked him.

He rolled his eyes. "Pretty girl like you," he commented, "What do you have to drink about?"

He was drunk, and she knew it. But she was, too. "You don't know anything about me," she repeated.

"What? Daddy doesn't approve of your pretty new boyfriend?"

"Daddy was murdered when I was five. My brother and I were there. He's dead, too, by the way. Boyfriend won't talk to me. If he's even my boyfriend anymore." Not that you'd know anything about that, she wanted to add. "What do you have to drink about?"

"I'm sorry. Fiancee died in a car crash several years ago. I just moved here. Her brother isn't making it easy."

"I'm sorry. My fiance died, too, a long time ago," she replied before she'd processed his full statement. "I mean, I was high when I met him, and I was high when he died, but he was the first man I ever thought I loved." Why was she saying all of this? It's one thing if it's to a stranger in a bar, but Riggs? Wait. Brother? Owen? What was he talking about? Nothing was making sense now. Her head was a mess.

"I'm sorry. I guess you do have a lot to drink about." She was about to say you have no idea, but then he called for another round.

"I guess we all do, huh?" They continued to drink themselves away, saying things that they never would have if they were sober.

Joe decided that it was time for them to go home. He called them both taxis. He dragged them out to the curb, and just before stumbling into the cab, she told Riggs, "You're not so bad. I don't know why Owen hates you so much."

* * *

The cab dropped her off in front of one of the only houses that she thought would welcome her in. She rang the doorbell twice, then stood and waited. The winter Seattle air was biting, and if she were thinking logically, she would wish she hadn't left her coat at the bar. Her dilated capillaries didn't help with conserving body heat either. However, the truth was that she was too drunk to care. But she could think clearly enough to know that she didn't want to spend the night on a doorstep. She rang the doorbell again after a few minutes, then pulled out her phone. At your door she typed slowly with numb fingers. A minute later, the door swung open. Arizona stood behind it with her blond hair a messy mop on her head and a baggy sweatshirt and patterned pajama pants on.

"I'm sorry for waking you," Amelia said. "I didn't know where to go."

Arizona beckoned for Amelia to come in. "What happened?" She was still a bit groggy, but the fog surrounding her brain was beginning to lift. As soon as Amelia stepped inside, Arizona could smell the alcohol. "Have you been drinking?"

Amelia only shrugged and looked down.

"God, Amelia…" She put her hand on the other woman's wrist. "You're freezing. Go warm up in the shower. First right up the stairs." She nodded her head in the direction of the staircase. "I'll leave some clean clothes outside the door. Throw yours in the hamper, I'll run a load first thing tomorrow morning."

"Thank you," she said quietly. She felt like she should say more, so she opened her mouth, but Arizona shook her head.

"Just go. We can talk in the morning. You can either sleep on the couch or in DeLuca's room. He's rarely even around anymore. He usually spends his nights at the hospital or, well, with Maggie, but you knew that. His room is right across from the bathroom."

Amelia nodded and walked up the stairs. Arizona followed her, and went to her room to get something for Amelia to change into. She left them in front of the bathroom door, and then lingered for a moment. Something happened tonight, something that Arizona wasn't aware of. And it would have to wait until morning for her to find out.

* * *

Arizona didn't sleep very well for the rest of the night, mostly out of worry for her friend. She woke up early, and threw the laundry in the washing machine. The machine started to whirl and spin, and she had nothing better to do but stare mindlessly, partially asleep through the transparent top. She wasn't sure how much time had passed, but eventually she snapped out of it. She brewed herself a cup of coffee and sat down on the couch. She turned on the early-morning news and half-watched until a reasonable time to get ready rolled around. When she went upstairs to check on Amelia, she found her sobbing in the bathroom.

"Amelia?" She asked.

Amelia looked up with terrified eyes. "I'm sorry. I'm so, so sorry." Arizona shook her head, telling her that it was alright. "I- God, I haven't had a hangover in so long," she cried. "Dammit!" Her voice wasn't angry, but anguished.

Arizona put her hand on Amelia's shoulder. "It's alright. It really is. It's going to be alright."

Amelia sat up. "If you really believe that, you don't know me at all."

Arizona sighed. "I know it seems like your world is crashing and burning around you, but you can get past this. I know you can. I may not have known you before when… everything happened, but I know you know, and I know you can figure this out. Whatever this is. What happened last night, anyways?"

Amelia shook her head. "I don't even know. I- I don't know. Meredith and I got into a fight. We said some pretty nasty stuff, and she kicked me out. Me and Owen haven't really been speaking lately. I don't know. I just ended up at the bar." She glanced around, trying to change the subject. "I need to get ready. You should, too."

Arizona stood up taller and put her arms akimbo with her hands on her hips and her thumbs back. To show authority, just like her father had taught her. "No, you're not going to work today. No way, not like this. You barely got any rest last night, and, no offense, but you're a mess. Call in sick, sleep off your hangover. Then you're going to go to meeting or whatever it is you like to do, and you're going to figure your crap out." Once she was done with her spiel, she dropped her arms and smiled. "There's bread on the counter if you want to make some toast." She turned and started to leave the bathroom to get ready for her own day.

"Wait," Amelia said. Arizona froze, but didn't turn around. "Last night, I was with Riggs at the bar. What if he says something?"

Arizona spun around and smiled. "I'll talk to him. He won't say anything."

Arizona left, and left Amelia sitting there feeling dumbfounded. Arizona hadn't left her many options. Or, well, any options. She rubbed her temples and decided that Arizona was probably right. If she had any hope of getting past this without relapsing completely, it wasn't going to happen running around the hospital trying to avoid Meredith and Owen.

* * *

 **A/N: So, I'm finally posting this. I've written at least 10 different versions of this story, and I have about 30 pages worth of Google Doc that will never be published to prove it. However, I think I've finally decided on a route to take this story and I'm SUPER excited for it! I have tons of ideas waiting to be written, so hopefully this will be my first ever successful chapter fic! Key word being hopefully. I hope you liked the first chapter! Let me know what you think.**


	2. Chapter 2: Starting Over

**CHAPTER 2: STARTING OVER**

 _"We fall so hard_  
 _Now we gotta get back what we lost, lost_  
 _I thought you'd go_  
 _But you were with me all along, along"_  
-Macklemore

That afternoon, she walked to the closest AA meeting at a local clubhouse. She would have went to NA, but there were only AA meetings within walking distance, and she didn't want to bug anyone for a ride. Her car was still at Joe's, and she would have to pick it up later.

When she got there, she almost felt guilty. It had been so long since she'd been to a meeting. Too long, really. They went through the motions. This one was smaller than the typical meetings she went to. They sat in a circle and went around to each person. She tried somewhat unsuccessfully to absorb what the other people were saying, and then it was her turn. She was tempted to pass, but instead she spoke. "Hi, I'm Amelia. I'm a drug addict and an alcoholic," she said. She heard the chorus of 'hi, Amelia's and continued, "I was sober for four years. My brother died almost a year ago, and afterwards, everyone was watching me, waiting for me to slip and crash and burn just like I always do. But I didn't. For so long, I made it. But last night, I found myself at a bar, and I slipped. I just don't want this to be like the last time I slipped. I can't relapse again. All of my effort can't have been for nothing. It's just- It's day one. Again. And that sucks." She finished and everyone thanked her.

All of the other people and their stories kind of melted together, except for one person. He stuck out like a sore thumb, and Amelia couldn't place why. He'd introduced himself as Thatch. He'd been sober for three years, then slipped after his daughter passed away, but he got back on the wagon and has been sober for three and a half years since.

She still couldn't figure out where she knew him from, so she introduced herself personally afterwards. She sighed. "You seem really familiar, but I can't seem to figure out why."

He smiled. "I think I may just have one of those faces. You seem familiar, too, but I think you just remind me of someone I used to know."

"This may seem like a strange question, or an awkward one for some, but have you happened to spend a lot of time at Grey Sloan Memorial? I work there," she suggested.

He raised his eyebrows. "My daughter worked… Well, my other daughter still works there, I think. I haven't seen her in a while."

Suddenly, it struck her. "Oh my God. You… You're Meredith's father?"

"You know her?" He asked.

"I'm her sister-in-law. Well, kind of." She gave a half smile and reintroduced herself. "Amelia Shepherd."

"Thatcher Grey," he replied back, and shook her hand. "Well, that must be why you remind me of Derek. I'm very sorry about your brother. I didn't know him well, but he seemed like a nice young man."

She nodded. "I guess I can say the same about Lexie. I'd only met her a couple of times, but she was very sweet, and a very promising neurosurgeon in the making."

Thatch gave her a small smile. "I don't know if this will help you, but after… after Lexie died, I went through something similar. Dani, my now wife, was always in my business, checking up on me, making sure that I was sober. But then… She was busy with other things. It wasn't her fault, it was just…"

"Life went on for her. But it didn't for you," she finished, describing her own feelings.

"Exactly. I think… I think something that helped me was just knowing how sad she would be. Lexie, I mean, if she saw me drinking again. It sounds cliche, but I just knew that she wouldn't want me to throw my life away like I did after my wife died." He shook his head. "She took care of me, you know. That's why she came to Seattle in the first place. To try to help me."

Amelia bit her lip. "I'm sorry. With Derek… When I first got addicted to oxy, I overdosed. Derek was the one who saved me. If it wasn't for him, I wouldn't be alive. I would have never gone to college, or became a doctor, or fallen in love, or had my heart broken. He didn't know about my relapse until I was in rehab, but afterward, he told me that if I ever considered doing drugs again, to let him know, so he could knock some sense into me," she reminisced, smiling. "I just wish he was here to knock some sense into me now."

Thatch shrugged. "Maybe you don't need someone else to knock some sense into you now."

"I hope so," she said. "It was… It was really nice talking to you. I was unsure about coming tonight. I haven't been to a meeting in a while, and I hate going to places where I don't know a single person, you know? But this wasn't half bad."

Thatch smiled. "It was very nice to meet you. I hope I'll see you here again. It can seem so much easier to just give in to your addiction, but we both know that fighting to stay clean is easier than fighting to get sober."

Amelia smiled. "Yeah. See you, maybe."

* * *

That evening, Arizona took Amelia to get her car back. When they got back to Arizona's house, Amelia insisted on cooking dinner while Arizona took care of whatever she needed to and played with Sofia, as it was one of her nights with her. When she finished cooking, she found Arizona sitting on the couch doing paperwork. "Dinner's ready. We can eat in a few minutes."

"Okay. Did you go to a meeting today?" she asked.

"Yeah. It was nice. I, uh, I met Meredith's father."

Arizona looked up. "Oh? How is he?"

Amelia shrugged. "He seemed to be doing well. Now, at least. We talked about… losing people. It was kind of strange, I guess."

"I don't think he's spoken to Meredith since… Since Lexie's funeral, probably. I think Lexie was the only reason they ever spoke at all. I guess it makes sense, though. That's what happens when your father leaves you with your mother and starts a new family."

Amelia sat down next to Arizona. "I didn't know that's what had happened."

Arizona shrugged. "Yeah, according to Callie, at least. I'll go get Sofia and we can sit down for dinner."

They sat at the table joking and laughing. Sofia was more than excited to tell them all about her day at preschool, and Arizona had her own tales from the hospital - apparently, Alex and Jo had gotten engaged. Arizona was over the moon that her protege was finally getting his happy ending. Amelia skillfully evaded telling a four-year-old about what she had been up to all day. Towards the end of the meal, Amelia realized that she had spent most of it just twisting her spaghetti around her fork. Arizona must have realized it, too.

"Are you feeling alright?" she asked.

Amelia looked up at her. "Yeah. I'm just not hungry. It's been an off day, I guess." Arizona didn't press any further, and Amelia was grateful. She didn't know what had gotten into her. Spaghetti has always been one of her favorite dishes - and, coincidentally, one of the easiest to prepare - and she usually vacuumed it off of her plate. She supposed her whole being was just out of whack today.

"Alright, Sof, time to get cleaned up and ready for bed," Arizona said with a smile. They went upstairs and Amelia was left to clean up.

Later that evening, Arizona was having a hard time getting Sofia going to sleep. "Sofi-" Amelia could hear coming from Sofia's bedroom.

"Just one more story? Pleeeease?"

"Mama has a lot of work to do, Sof."

Amelia slipped into the doorway. "Sofia, how about I tell you a story, so your mom can get back to work? But then you have to go to sleep, okay?"

Sofia crossed her arms. She needed to see if this woman was story-telling material. "About what?"

"About anything you want. I have plenty of stories." Amelia thought for a moment, then got an idea. "How about your father?"

Sofia's eyes widened. Now she was listening. "Okay."

"And then you'll go to sleep?"

Sofia nodded. "Fine. G'night, Mama."

Arizona kissed her forehead and tucked her in. "Good night, Sofi. Sleep tight."

"Don't let the bedbugs bite!"

"I love you."

"Love you, too."

"Okay, now behave for Amelia. Please."

Sofia smiled and nodded. Arizona sighed and left the room. As she passed through the doorway, she whispered to Amelia, "Keep it rated G."

Amelia rolled her eyes. "So, Sofia, do your moms tell you a lot of stories about your daddy?"

Sofia shrugged. "Did you really know him?"

Amelia smiled. "We grew up together. I was even younger than you when I met him. What do you want to know?"

"Everything." Sofia sat staring at Amelia expectantly as she thought of a good story to tell.

"Okay. Once upon a time, there were three kids growing up in a big city. There was a brother and sister - that's me and my brother - and then your dad, who was basically family, too. We lived in New York City. It's on the other side of the country, and it's even bigger than Seattle, much bigger, actually. There's tall buildings everywhere, except in Central Park. This isn't just any park, though, it's a park big enough to be an entire small town. We used to like to play in it when we were little.

"One time, your dad and my brother had to make little cars for school. They were just chunks of wood with wheels on them, but your dad was inspired. He decided that he was going to make a person-sized car out of their skateboards, empty pizza boxes, and duct tape. He finished making it, but he was disappointed that it only fit one person, and it barely fit either of them. But I was a few years younger than them, and the perfect size for this 'car.' So M- your dad made me sit on it as he pulled it around Central Park, trying to sell me for a few dollars so he and my brother could buy some candy bars.

"It was just a joke, and they even made a few cents, but then they ran into some neighborhood kids. They were less entertained by a kid trying to sell his best friend's little sister, and more entertained by the skateboards underneath our 'car.' One of the kids kicked me and pushed me off of the pizza boxes so that they could take a grab at the skateboards, but M- your dad got to one of them first. He used it to hit the kid who had kicked me in the face, and probably left him a nice scar. They got away with one of the boards, and we were left with just one skateboard and a mess of cardboard pizza boxes and duct tape, but your dad didn't mind much. He was just glad that he had been able to save one of the skateboards and whack my attacker." Amelia was silent for a moment. "The end!"

Sofia smiled. "I like that story. But you need to work on your ending."

Amelia chuckled. "Oh yeah? And then the three kids lived happily ever after. Is that better?"

Sofia shrugged. "Not everything ends in happily ever after."

Amelia sighed. "I know." How could someone so young have such an honest view of the world? It was a lie to say that they lived happily ever after. They grew up, and it wasn't happily ever after. It was drug addiction, and overdoses, and cheating, and heart breaking, and plane crashes, and car accidents. They didn't live happily ever after. "You want to know what really happened? My mom went nuts. She was so angry, but mostly with my brother. She could never get mad at your dad. Then, life went on." She looked at Sofia for a moment. "Hey, this doesn't mean violence is the answer, okay? Unless- Look, your dad was just a troublemaker. I'm sure you're not a troublemaker, right?"

Sofia smiled even wider than before.

"Okay, are you ready to go to sleep?"

"Nooooo," she whined.

"You agreed," Amelia argued.

Sofia pouted. "Fine." Amelia reached for the light switch. "Wait! Turn on my night light first," she said, pointing.

"Oh, sorry," Amelia said, reaching to turn on the nightlight.

"Do you think it's silly I have a nightlight?" Sofia asked.

"Of course not. Why would I think that?"

"My friend does. She says it's for babies."

"Don't listen to your friend, Sofia. Most kids your age sleep with nightlights. It's normal. You know, your dad was scared of the dark, too, until he was in high school."

"Really?" She asked in a small voice.

"Really. Sweet dreams, Sofia." Amelia switched off the light and left to get ready for bed herself.

* * *

The next morning, Amelia and Arizona chatted over toast. "Thank for last night," Arizona told her. "Truly, we don't get to tell Sofia a lot about Mark, especially from before he came to Seattle."

"Any time," Amelia grinned. "Really, if Sofia ever wants to know more about Mark, I'd be happy to tell her stories. When I was growing up, talking about my dad was practically taboo most of the time, and I always wished I knew more about him."

Arizona nodded. "Are you going back to work today?"

"Yeah." Arizona simply nodded in response. "What? No argument?"

"Amelia, you're a grown woman. You can make your own decisions."

"That's not what you said yesterday."

"Yesterday you were hungover after showing up at my doorstep drunk at two in the morning." She set her plate in the sink. "I have to go get Sofia ready."

Arizona's words struck Amelia. A day earlier, she was in a much different state of mind than she was now. She was hungover, sobbing in the bathroom. The day before had been so monumentally simple - boring, really - but the fact that she had survived it without getting drunk or high again gave her some sliver of hope that she could survive another. Now she just needed to face the real world.

* * *

 **A/N: Thank you for reading and thanks for all of the awesome reviews! They mean the world :) I meant to post this a lot sooner, but school has been really rough. Chapter 3 may take a little while, but Chapter 4 shouldn't take too long because I already have a major scene written. I have a pretty good road map for this story, but I'm not sure how close I'll end up sticking to it because I had meant to include Meredith's attack into this chapter, but I felt the natural break was here. I hope you liked this chapter. It had a lot of reflecting. The next chapter should have a bit more action, and in the next chapter or the one after, a bomb will be dropped (I'm sure plenty of you are guessing it already xD). Thanks again, for everything!**


	3. Chapter 3: Trapdoor

**CHAPTER 3: TRAPDOOR**

" _Everyone gather around for a show  
Watch as this man disappears as we know  
Do me a favor and try to ignore  
As you watch him fall through a bleeding trapdoor"_  
-Twenty One Pilots

Amelia had to admit that while she loved her job and the hospital itself, she wasn't the most excited to be back. It didn't help that Owen was one of the first people she saw after she stepped through the front doors. She tried to escape before he saw her, but it was to no avail.

She walked quickly, but he matched her pace. "Hey," he said. "Are you feeling better?"

She was genuinely surprised that he had noticed her absence. "Much. Thanks," she stated curtly.

"Can we talk?" he asked.

She stopped. "Maybe later. I'm busy. I have patients I need to catch up on." She didn't let him say another word before turning and walking off in the opposite direction to find Edwards so she could get caught up.

Later that day, she was in surgery when she was paged to the ER. "Send it to the next guy. I'm kind of knuckle deep in a girl's tumor right now." The nurse left the OR to relay the message.

About a half an hour later, Edwards was pulled out. She was assisting the surgery, so she looked to Amelia for permission. "Go. I'm just finishing up."

Edwards was back a few moments later. "Uh, I, uh, I can close up. You're getting paged to the ER again. They really need you."

Amelia saw the look in Edwards' eyes and sighed. "Fine. But I rocked this surgery, don't you dare screw it up in the last twenty minutes," she warned as she prepared to transfer her place to Stephanie. "I have seen this girl through too much. If anything goes wrong, page me. I don't care who died."

Edwards try to mask the shock on her face, but it was all too telling: How did she know? But Amelia wasn't in any mood to explain how all she was wondering at the moment was who could possibly be in the ER? Who could possibly be left to lose? She marched out of the OR and scrubbed out. Jo was waiting for her when she went to retrieve her pager.

"Who, when, how," Amelia said bluntly.

"What- Uh, Meredith. Twenty minutes ago. She was attacked by a patient. They- It's pretty bad."

Amelia nodded. "Okay. Thank you. I guess… I guess I'll head down there."

"Do you need anything?"

"No. It's fine. You can get back to… Whatever you were doing before. Keeping Alex sane, treating patients, whatever." She left her in the hallway and walked towards the elevator. The ride down - which couldn't have been more than a few seconds - seemed to take ages, and she couldn't stand still.

When she got to the ER, the first thing she saw was the empty trauma room. There was blood smeared at the foot of the door, and she couldn't imagine what horror laid inside.

Then, the commotion. Meredith was in her own trauma room. There were a dozen people crowded around her, but Amelia could tell that it was her. Everyone was shouting and tons of machines were beeping, leaving her clueless as to what was actually happening. All she knew was that it didn't sound good.

 _Crap._ She thought as she sunk to the ground up against the nearest wall. _What if she dies?_ Even if she may have been willing to say it without qualms minutes earlier, she didn't want Meredith to die. She didn't mean the things she'd said to her. She really didn't, it was just her twisted way of coping. Her convoluted way of screaming that _she_ saw Derek every time she looked at herself in a mirror and _she_ was only pretending to be okay and _she_ was secretly crawling deeper and deeper into her hole. _What about the kids?_ How could they grow up orphaned? They'd only lost their father less than a year earlier, they couldn't lose their mother, too.

For a while, she just sat there. Then something clicked in her mind. Her head turned to the decimated trauma room, more specifically the number above the door. Trauma room 3. She pulled out her pager and pulled up past pages. Sure enough, she had gotten paged to the same room, probably at the same time as Meredith. _It was her fault._ Okay, maybe not, but she couldn't help feeling that way. If she had done something - anything - differently that day, maybe she would have gotten there before Meredith was attacked. Or while she was being attacked. Maybe it could have gone differently. But it didn't. She didn't.

 _Useless._ She couldn't do anything to help Owen, and she couldn't do anything to help Meredith.

She retreated into herself. Everything moved so fast around her, but she didn't process any of it. It wasn't until she heard the long beep of Meredith going into asystole that she came to. She stood up with a foreign look in her eye, almost like a zombie. She turned and walked right towards the exit, but she was stopped by a hand on her shoulder. She spun around to see Dr. Webber.

"Are you alright?" he asked.

She plastered a fake smile onto her face. "Perfect," she spat sarcastically.

Webber sighed. "Where are you going?"

"Nowhere. I don't know… All I know is I can't stay here. I need to go anywhere but here."

He ran his hand over his head. "I could really use a meeting right now. Do you want to come with me?"

She was surprised, because she knew where she was headed. She was going to the bar. But Webber's words didn't faze her. "No, I'm fine, really. I think… I think I'll just go home. Give the nanny a break. We'll probably need her a lot more the next couple weeks."

Webber frowned, but he didn't push further. "Okay. I'll see you later. Let me know if you want to go to a meeting."

"Thanks," she said and proceeded to walk to get her things.

* * *

When she got to the bar, she found Riggs again. "Do you come here every day?"

He smiled when he saw her. "Nearly every day that I can, it seems like. What about you? I'd never seen you here before, but now we seem to be making a habit of this."

She shrugged. "I come when I want." She didn't say anything further, and he didn't ask. She ordered her drink and turned to him "Is it your day off? It seems a bit early to go drinking, isn't it?"

"Yeah, actually. I could ask the same thing of you, you know."

Amelia smiled. "My sister-in-law got attacked by a psycho patient."

"I'm sorry."

She chuckled. "The funniest part? I don't even like her. Ever since my brother died, we haven't treated each other like human beings."

"Yeah, I can relate," he said. "So, are you going to explain why your friend was so adamant about me not mentioning to anyone I was at the bar with you?"

Amelia sighed. "She was overreacting," she lied. After her first addiction, her relapse, and now this, lies seemed to come second nature to her. "She seemed to get the idea that we did something… more that night. I guess it's fine, though, because I don't want to give Owen another thing to worry about right now."

"Speaking of him, why are you talking to me? It's obvious that you guys are… It seems like he has convinced half the hospital that I'm a scheming asshole."

"We aren't on the best terms right now. Besides, I don't let other people make judgements for me. And you don't seem half bad."

"Thanks." They continued talking for another half an hour, until Dr. Webber walked in.

"Amelia," he said sternly. "I thought I might find you here."

"What tipped you off?"

"I found Maggie trying to barter with the nanny to stay later than usual."

Amelia laughed. "Okay, that lie was a little sloppy. I'm out of practice. I'll get better. You know, lying is a lot of fun. Did you lie a lot? When you-"

"I'm taking you home, Amelia. This ends tonight."

"What's going on?" Riggs interrupted.

Webber looked to Riggs. "Your drinking buddy here is a relapsed alcoholic."

Riggs' eyes widened.

Amelia leaned forward. "You want to know a secret? I lied to you, too," she slurred. "Arizona was doing what I had asked. Protecting my image or whatever. She shouldn't have bothered."

Webber tugged on Amelia's arm and she stood up. As he led her out of the bar, she groaned. "You're such a killjoy."

"I know." They got into his car and he asked, "Where am I taking you?" He probably didn't know that she had been kicked out of Meredith's house, but was thinking more along the lines of not wanting a drunk woman around young children.

"I don't know. I've been staying with Arizona for the past couple nights, but I guess I'll stay at a hotel tonight. Can we stop at her place first? To get a few things."

Webber did as she had asked. He made sure that she got to her hotel room safely, then told her, "If you need anything, let me know. I'll keep you updated on Meredith."

"Thanks. That's what I'm supposed to tell you, right?"

"Amelia, you were doing so well…"

"You thought. You thought I was doing so well. Everyone did. But you didn't see. That's alright, though. I wasn't expecting you to. You shouldn't have to."

"You'll get through this, Amelia."

"Sure. Whatever."

Before turning to leave Webber advised, "Don't do anything you wouldn't if you were sober, okay?"

"No promises."

* * *

She fell asleep soon after Webber left, but she woke a few hours later from her nap. It was around 10:00 PM, and the hotel room was pitch black, but she couldn't fall back asleep. It turned out that she was unable to achieve anything but drunken blackout sleep. She could feel the cool hotel sheets underneath her, and it only brought back memories of a different one. A different cold hotel room from years ago which she had shared with a dead body. It wasn't just that, though. Everything happening at the moment was all too haunting.

She turned on the bedside lamp and pulled herself off of the bed. Everything hurt - including a pounding headache aggravated by the increase in light - and fatigue ebbed at the edges of her being, but she couldn't sit there any longer. She took a shower and got changed into clothes she had grabbed from Arizona's before calling a cab that would take her to the hospital.

When she got there, she ran into Owen almost immediately.

"Amelia!" he said. "Where were you? I tried calling you, like, five times."

She shrugged. "Uh, I don't know where my phone is. It must have died. I just needed to get out of here. How is Meredith?"

"She's in surgery. They think she'll pull through, though."

"That, uh, that's good," she muttered, looking at the ground.

"Can we talk?" he asked.

She looked up at him. "Now you want to talk? Fine. Let's talk." She turned and walked briskly towards the on-call room while muttering under her breath, "I wonder where you got that idea."

Luckily, there was no one sleeping in the on-call room to witness their impending argument. "You're angry," he stated.

"I'm not angry. I'm… frustrated."

"Amelia-"

"Don't. Don't 'Amelia' me. You want to talk? You first."

"I- I already told you that I don't want to talk about… that."

"Look, you don't have to tell me what happened. You don't have to tell me about-" She paused, pondering what to say next. "About before. About the past. But tell me what's going on _now_. Tell me you seeth standing in the same room as him. Tell me… Tell me you're angry. Or upset. Or that you just want to stop thinking about it. Just say anything!" She reached out her hand to touch his. "Just let me be here for you."

He didn't have any answer to that. No reply.

She sighed. "I just wanted to check. You see, you said that you wanted to talk, but you didn't really want to talk. You wanted me to talk. But I'm done talking, Owen. I'm done talking to you."

"Amelia, don't do this-"

"You don't get it. Look, you've got stuff going on. And I've got stuff going on, and I… I need to work through that stuff. I mean, I'm hungover for christ's sake!" She could see the concern register in his face, and he wanted to say something, but she didn't let him. "I just… I can't do this anymore. Whatever this is. I'm sorry. I really am. And I know you think you don't need to talk, Owen, but you do. You need to talk to someone. Whether it's Meredith or your mom or whoever, you need to talk to someone before it starts to kill you. Take that from someone who's been there."

They stood staring at each other for a few seconds that felt like a few centuries. "I didn't know that you had…" he said slowly.

"Relapsed? Yeah, probably because I didn't tell you." The tension and awkwardness in the small on-call room was increasing exponentially.

"Uh, well, I doubt you'll take me up on it, but I'm still here for you."

"Yeah. Thanks. Same goes for you, too."

"So, this is it for us?"

"For now, at least." The weight of the room was staggering. "I'll see you around." She waited for a moment before leaving the on-call room. Owen didn't go after her, and she was grateful. She didn't think she had the strength to maintain her composure for a moment longer in his presence. She held back her tears as she walked briskly towards a different on-call room where she would spend the night.

As she flew open the door of an on-call room on the third floor, Webber saw her. "Amelia! What are you doing here?"

"It turns out I don't like hotel rooms much."

"You shouldn't be here. Maybe you need to take a break."

"Don't tell me what I need to do!"

"Amelia, this- this isn't some petty drama. You're an addict. You have a disease. You could die."

"I know! I know what's happening, Webber. Don't pretend that I don't know that each time I relapse, my chances of getting sober again decrease. Don't pretend that I don't know what an overdose is, or that I'm denying that it can happen to me. Because it has. I've been there. Hell, I can't sleep in hotel rooms anymore because the last time I was high, I woke up in a hotel bed with my dead fiance next to me!" She took a deep breath. "I've been to rehab twice. And each time I left, I saw the destruction that I had caused. All of the family and friends that my addiction had hurt. And I don't want to hurt people like that again. I really don't, but I've learned that life goes on. They'll get over it. And right now, all I want is to be numb again."

"They'll get over it? Is that what you really think? Have you 'gotten over' Derek?" Webber let out a ragged sigh. "It doesn't matter. Amelia, if you're going to get sober, if you're going to stay sober, you can't do it for anyone else but yourself. You have to want to stay clean for _you_."

Amelia looked at the ground. "I- I- I'll see you tomorrow." She turned to enter the dark on-call room where she could lose herself in her thoughts.

* * *

 **A/N: Chapter 3! This is officially the farthest I've ever gotten in a fanfiction. I should get a party xD I'm SUPER excited for tonight! (the winter premiere) Hopefully for those of you who read this before then, this helps with these last couple hours. Also, please not that I am DEFINITELY for Omelia, but that breakup needed to happen. Caterina kind of explained it in an interview. In that past, when they had hard times, the other was there to be a rock and comfort them. Now, they're both going through hard times and it's the idea that two broken people can't fix each other. Agh, I don't think I'm going to survive tonight! But I can't wait!**


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